


Don't Forget Me

by Lamamu



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Boys Kissing, Fluff and Smut, Good Parent Chuck Shurley, I Tried, I can't help myself, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, It was supposed to be fluff, M/M, Protective Michael, Sad Adam, Sad Michael, So much angst, hehe, midam
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-13
Updated: 2018-12-12
Packaged: 2019-08-23 01:53:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 15,488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16609631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lamamu/pseuds/Lamamu
Summary: It was one night, barely even that, and both men remembered it for different reasons.One was wracked with guilt, and the misery of nearly ten years of wondering 'what if'...One was still dealing with the pain of being rejected in the worst way.But now that their paths have crossed again, will there be room for explanation, or has that ship long since sailed?(I really suck at summaries, I'm sorry! -_-)





	1. One

## One

 

“Hey! Watch it.”

Adam Milligan lurched sideways with all the grace he could muster. Which, these days wasn’t saying a lot. It had been years since he’d even found it necessary to think about moving so fast, never mind actually doing it. Years in which he’d moved on, or tried to, from the memory of precisely _why_ he hadn’t stepped a figurative foot inside a swimming pool anymore, or used the repetitive, calming strokes of freestyle to put some order into his thoughts.

And so it was that he _almost_ successfully sidestepped the exasperated, borderline rude voice that had told him to get out of the way.

It wasn’t Adam’s fault he moved out of one person’s path directly into the arms of another. Arms that clutched at him with a surprisingly strong grip before slipping free as the owner of them fell to the floor.

Well, maybe if he’d been less focused on reading the text from his estranged brother and more focused on his surroundings, he might have looked up before he moved. Or not walked into someone else’s path in the first place.

“Sorry..”

His apology was directed at the first person, delivered just as he collided with the broad chest of a man who smelled like he was going to look like a walking sin waiting to happen. The masculine scent of sandalwood and oddly, the faintest hint of smoke assaulted Adam’s senses and his nostrils flared in response, inhaling out of instinct more than anything else. Fire. It was like smelling fire.

“Shit..”

_Could this dumb, awful day possibly get any worse?_

Apparently so.

In slow motion, Adam’s world tilted and it was only those quick reflexes he hadn’t used for years that saved him from ending up in a tangled pile of arms, legs and lattes on the floor. The man he’d collided with however, wasn’t so lucky.

“Dammit. Not today, _please_ not today..” The man’s voice was plaintive, a deep, musical baritone that under different circumstances would have fascinated Adam. As it was he was left wanting to hear more.

Adam looked down at the mess he’d made, seeing a mass of unruly dark brown, almost black hair, a pair of snug fitting jeans and shapely thighs that were now wearing the coffee Adam had been holding in his left hand while his right had been scrolling through the essay his half-brother Sam had sent him. His reusable coffee cup was lying almost apologetically on it’s side between the man's knees, the last remnants of his much needed caffeine hit dripping onto the tiled floor.

He inwardly berated himself for being more sorry he’d lost the coffee than the fact that someone was now wearing it, and blamed it on the fact that he’d had approximately four hours sleep in the last two days. Sometimes being a doctor meant no sleep, little food and even less time to breathe. That he could handle.. But take his caffeine away and Adam could become downright unreasonable.

“Uhhhh.”

It came out as a slow exhale, and he extended a hand to help the man to his feet at the same time.

“Sorry dude. I’m running on fumes and I.. -”

Adam finally got a good look at the man’s face, and felt the blood drain from his own soon after. His heart started to hammer in his chest, and it wasn’t for any reason he wanted to entertain, or admit to.

He would never, ever forget those blue-green eyes that reminded him of the ocean, no matter how much time had passed. Or that finely chiseled jawline. Or those pink lips that he’d spent the last however many years trying to _forget_ he’d ever tasted.

“Accidents happen man, don’t worry about it.”

His apology was brushed off as though it were nothing, though Adam knew that couldn’t _possibly_ be the case. Not with this guy. Not with Michael Shurley. Not with everything Adam remembered about him from their time together at the University of Wisconsin. Well, it wasn’t like they’d shared classes. Michael was a year and a half ahead of him, and they were in different degrees anyway. No, they’d crossed paths only in the pool, or on the track when Adam wanted to run instead of swim his university worries away.

That in itself wasn’t _entirely_ true, though Adam didn’t want to think about it. Instead, he just grit his teeth as the other man took hold of his suddenly clammy hand and hauled himself to his feet. Hands still joined, they moved in unison to one side as an employee raced forward with a mop and bucket to clean up the mess on the floor.

“I…”

Adam found it hard to speak, and all he wanted to do was leave, escape from this fresh new hell and never come back. He tried to avoid meeting Michael’s eyes but failed, automatically raising them when the dark haired apparition from his past spoke again.

“Woah man, you look like you’ve seen a ghost, is everything okay?”

The tone of Michael’s voice had gone from dismay at the coffee in his lap, to acceptance of the situation to concern for Adam’s apparently pale face faster than anyone could blink.

_How dare he pretend to care?_

“I’m fine. Don’t.”

Adam wrenched his hand free and wiped it subconsciously against his chest in the way he used to when he felt a panic attack coming on. Years. It had been years.

Apparently it wasn’t long enough.

Adam’s blue eyes searched Michael’s face for any sign of recognition and found none, and he breathed out an almost disappointed sounding sigh, schooling his features into something a little more impassive. Of _course_ he didn’t remember. The bastard. Why would he? He hadn’t then.. Why would now be different?

“You don’t look okay. Or fine.”

Michael’s voice was firm, commanding, even though it remained soft and laced with concern. But Adam couldn’t ignore the underlying question, or miss the confusion in his eyes. Anyone would think it was _Adam_ that had taken the tumble and fallen to the ground, if not for the telltale coffee stains attempting to dry on Michael’s jeans.

“Just.. don’t.”

And what was with that ugly woolen sweater? Adam absolutely refused to admit that Michael filled it out well, or that the outline of his biceps and chest muscles only made the whole stupid thing look like it was something out of the pages of a men’s fashion magazine and not an obvious thrift store find.

“I don’t understand. Have we met?”

_Fuck you_.

He’d know, after all. Scrounging around in the racks at the goodwill stores in the city was one of his favourite past-times.

“Nice of you to finally show up...” Adam couldn’t quite stop the bitterness in his tone, or the way his heart ached with that old familiarity that he’d never quite gotten past. Stupid. He was stupid. “But I said I’m fine. You can drop the act... _Michael._ ” Adam dragged out the name as he said it for the first time in nearly ten years, hating the way it fell so naturally from his lips like it had so long ago.

“So that’s a yes.”

It wasn’t a question, though from the look on Michael’s stupid handsome face he had no idea what Adam was talking about.

His eyes searched Michael’s again, the disbelief he felt at seeing him again after all this time clear for all to see. Opening his mouth to say something else, to invite Michael to speak, to _explain_ had Adam rendered speechless when the words just wouldn’t come out.

“....Forget it.”

_It’s what you’re best at._

With that, Adam was gone, weaving his way into the crowd and out of the cafe before anyone could stop him.


	2. Two

##  **Two**

Michael, for his part was left standing there with his mouth gaping open wondering what the hell had just happened. He blinked once or twice, staring at the spot the tall, blonde and confusingly irate man had just been standing in for long moments before he could gather himself enough to do anything more than just stand there like an idiot with half a litre of coffee spilled down the front of him.

It had seeped absolutely _everywhere_ , giving him no small amount of discomfort. At least it wasn’t hot anymore, though he could feel the sting of his scalded skin rubbing against his jeans.

“Sir, here’s your cup.”

Something was pressed into his hand, and when he looked down Michael saw the keepcup that had held the coffee he was now wearing.

“It isn’t mine.” His response was vague, but he didn’t let go of the cup, instead shoving it into the satchel he had slung over his shoulder. “Do you know who that guy was?”

“No, but one of the others might. I haven’t been working here long. He _does_ come in a fair bit though. Enough that Garth knows his order anyway.”

Michael tore his eyes from the doorway where the strange man had vanished and finally looked at who he was speaking to. She was petite, with long straight hair and a pretty face that he was sure would turn heads no matter where she went. Mustering a smile, he thanked her and made his way back to the counter to pick up his own order, which had been sitting there, forgotten while the previous commotion had taken place.

“Woah, you’re soaked.” The barista, Michael assumed was named Garth said as he handed over a couple of coffee cards with complimentary coffees on them. “Here. Next ones are on the house. I’m sure the doc was just in a hurry or somethin’ man, don’t take it personally. He works too hard. Dude needs to chillax, you feel?”

Michael only followed about half of what Garth said, but he accepted the coffee cards with a nod of thanks, grimacing with the acknowledgement that he was indeed, soaked. He ignored the rest, knowing that somehow it was indeed _personal_ , at least for the other man, since he’d called Michael by name.

“Yeah.. first day at my new job and.. Well..” He gestured uselessly at his legs and sighed. “This.. you said the guy was a doctor?” His tone was curious, but neutral. He didn’t want to delve into exactly _how_ this guy knew his name, or where from. Not right now anyway. Michael had only been in town for a week. The only person he knew was his sister Raphael, who had moved here with her husband a few years back.

And what an unlikely pair _that_ was. Michael had had his doubts when she’d turned up one day and announced she’d eloped, with a _musician_ of all people, and no amount of him giving the poor man the big brother stink-eye could wipe the smile of both of their faces so he’d eventually given up and admitted that she was happy.

Though he _did_ still hassle the guy now and then. Purely out of a sense of duty of course. Just to make sure his sister was well taken care of… and she was.

It was more than he could say for himself.

“.... the hospital. In the children's ward I think.” Oh. Garth was still talking. Michael shifted his attention back to the present and smiled at the shorter man, glancing at the clock on the wall behind him.

Shit.

“Gotta run man, but thanks for the coffee.”

He needed to get changed, but didn’t have time to go home again. Mentally he went through the stores he’d passed after he’d parked his car and wandered down the street in search of coffee. If he didn’t stuff around, he figured there’d be just enough time to grab a change of clothes before he started. The last thing he wanted to do was sit around in wet denim all day.

Forty minutes later, Michael was walking into the state fire department headquarters with his wet clothes rolled up and stuffed into the bag his new clothes should have been in. The attendant at the store hadn’t really minded when he’d insisted on wearing his new purchases. The only thing that really bothered him was her insistence that he model his choices for her.

“Shurley? Investigator Shurley?”

“Yes. That’s me.” Michael groaned inwardly at his somewhat childish reply, and forced his mind into the professional mode that had won him the position in the first place.

Arson investigator. Michael was one man in a small team of specifically trained FBI agents that dealt with serial arson cases, something near and dear to his heart, and the motivation behind him turning up at his local fire station demanding to be allowed to volunteer when he was fifteen. It had taken the chief a while. At first he kept telling Michael to go home and focus on being a teenager... but Michael was determined to learn everything he could about fighting the element that had taken his mother's’ life, and how to go about catching those responsible for lighting the fire in the first place.

“Sorry. It’s been a… weird morning. What can I do for you.?”

Michael was led to his new office and given a moment to settle in before he was then introduced to his new team. Formalities out of the way, he spent the remainder of the day going through employee registration, workplace safety conditions and generally just settling in. By mid-afternoon he was a little bored, and had dragged out old case files to read through while nibbling on an apple and sipping on cold coffee.

Before he knew it, the day had passed and it was time to leave.

By the time he got home, the scent of dried coffee had almost integrated itself into his senses, but the first thing he did was peel out of his new clothes and toss them into the washing machine with the coffee soaked ones. Until now, Michael had been too preoccupied with his first day at the fire station to think about the events of the morning, but as the hot spray beat down on his back and shoulders, he couldn’t help but picture the hurt in the blue eyes of the man who had knocked him over.

As he lathered soap over his naked torso, Michael realised it wasn’t just hurt he had seen in those sky coloured eyes.

It was betrayal… and maybe a little hatred. What he couldn’t figure out was why? Why, when he couldn’t remember ever meeting the man before today.

Something about his voice though.. And the way his name.. ‘ _Michael_ ’.. had rolled off the other man’s tongue like it was made to be said by him, it did things to the brunette. Things that once upon a time Michael would have fiercely denied, and then ignored.

The very thought made him pause, hands frozen in his shampooed hair as a memory tried to surface, but was just as quickly stamped back down again into the depths of his mind.

Irritated, Michael turned off the taps with a little too much force, scrubbed himself dry and wrapped a towel around his waist. He sauntered to his bedroom and threw on a pair of sweatpants, shrugging into an old Queen shirt as he blindly made his way to the kitchen for a much needed beer.

His eyes fell on his satchel as he contemplated his dinner, or rather, what he had that he could microwave. Beer in hand, he flipped the front up and unzipped the seal, reaching inside for the keepcup he’d stashed there earlier. In truth, he should have just left it with Garth, but at the time Michael was too dazed about what had happened to think clearly on the matter.

Either way, he’d take it back to the cafe tomorrow, but first it needed to be cleaned. It was the least he could do, really, and it didn’t take long, but as he upended the cup onto the drain, Michael caught sight of a name scribbled onto the bottom of the cup, and he picked it back up again to get a closer look.

_Adam._

That was it. No surname, nothing.

“Well that’s a big help, Adam. At least I know your name too now.”

_Really Michael? Talking to yourself?_

_Shut up._

Taking his beer with him to the living room, Michael flopped down on the sofa with his mind still trying to place where Adam might remember him from.. And why he didn’t remember him in return. He sat there for at least an hour, but drew nothing but blanks no matter what he did to prompt his mind to remember.

Surely, _surely_ he’d remember meeting someone with such startling blue eyes and a handsome face that he could only dream he’d be worthy of kissing. Not that Michael was one for appearances.. Or being attracted to anyone, really. But this.. Adam seemed to.. Whatever. Michael couldn’t remember, and from the look Adam had given him, he was the last person the blonde _doctor_ wanted to see.

_...Doctor_

Raphael was a doctor.

_Hmmm._

It was the last thing Michael consciously thought of as he drifted off to sleep several hours later, not one bit closer to solving the problem of his mystery hater.


	3. Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michael starts to put the pieces together.. and things begin to fall into place.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really being such a potato about this.
> 
> Please feel free to leave me comments! I'd love to hear what everyone thinks.

##  **Three**

_ It was one of those frat parties where the only light allowed were glow sticks, and the colour you wore dictated how willing you were to be there, and for what reason. A traffic light party with a twist. _

_ Red = I’m just here to party. _

_ Yellow = I’m open to suggestions. _

_ Green = Bring it. _

_ And the colour that went with it stated your preferences, if any. _

_ Pink = looking for a girl. _

_ Blue = looking for a guy. _

_ Purple = whatever. _

_ Most people wore a rainbow, though there were a few, like Michael who wore the red. He had a big game coming up, and had been instructed to stay focused. He could  _ still _ hear the coach in his ear as he wove through the crowd with one of those beer filled red plastic cups in his hand, telling him to keep it in his pants. _

_ It wasn’t like Michael was some kind of easy lay. Hell, in the whole time he’d been at college he’d only slept with two people but with both it had been.. weird.. and rather than experiment further he’d gone the other way choosing to keep to himself instead. Maintaining his reputation as a flirt had been easy, which resulted in the coach getting on his case at regular intervals. _

_ Michael always laughed it off and told him to relax, and so far it had worked. On the outside, Michael was everything he was expected to be, but on the inside.. On the inside it was a different matter entirely, and it wasn’t until years later that he realised what it had all meant. He wasn’t broken or flawed. There wasn’t anything wrong with him. But life sure would have been easier if he’d understood what it meant to be grey-ace, or pan, or whatever label had been put on him by his psychiatrist years later. _

_ The confusion in his mind, and the belief that something was wrong with him was what drove Michael to wear the red glow stick. He didn’t want to deal with the turmoil he experienced when he tried to flirt, or the shame he felt when there wasn’t an attraction where there should be one. _

_ It was just.. Easier. And hell, he was only twenty-two. There was plenty of time to figure things out later. Right now all he was worried about was getting through his last semester, and the application to the FBI academy he’d submitted at the urging of the chief at the fire station he  _ still _ volunteered at. _

_ Michael Shurley had gotten into college with his throwing arm, but after a false start and semester or two of fooling around, he was graduating with his brain. _

_ “Sucks huh?” _

_ There was a voice to Michael’s left, but in the darkness all he could make out were shadows, and the weird way the glow sticks reflected from the white of the speaker’s eyes and teeth. _

_ “... what?” Cupping a hand to his ear, Michael indicated that he hadn’t heard the guy.. At least he thought it was a guy.. Above the noise of the party. _

_ In response, a red wristband was waved in Michael’s face, and he gave the stranger a wry grin in the dim light, though he knew the other man would only see a basic outline of his features. Holding up his cup, Michael motioned filling it and turned away, assuming he’d be followed. Shortly after, he was standing as far away from the speakers as he could get, listening in fascination to the animated way the younger man was talking about swimming, finals, and how he was at the beginning of his third year of his degree and had been accepted to Johns Hopkins for the remainder of his university journey, and would be starting there in the new semester. _

_ Shortly after that, Michael realised they were standing closer than they should have been, and shortly after  _ that _ he had, by an unspoken agreement disappeared into the closest unoccupied room with him and had pinned him to the door with his broader frame before the door had even slammed shut. He hadn’t even gotten his name, but the attraction, the pull of this man was something Michael had never, ever experienced and he’d be damned if he was going to let it slide on by. Red glow stick be damned. _

_ Rough hands gripped him, roaming his chest as he ravaged the other’s mouth with his own, nipping and devouring all that he could, knowing they wouldn’t have long before someone was banging on the door demanding entry. _

_ “Fuck…” was all he could manage between hot, frantic kisses as he made his way along a lightly stubbled jaw to his potential lovers’ ear. _

_ “Mm-me.” _

_ The sarcastic, breathy response was all the invitation Michael needed to continue, but the other beat him to it, wrestling with the belt on his jeans and sliding his hand in to stroke long, slender fingers along Michael’s hard cock. He reacted instantly, rocking his hips forward as he moaned against the soft skin his mouth had been busy sucking a mark into. His own hands roamed lower, and with quick movements he had his large hand wrapped around his new friends’ impressive length. _

_ They should have tumbled to the bed, or the floor, but it was too much, the desire too damn strong for Michael to stop, to do things the way he would ordinarily want to in this situation. Normally he’d plan it out. Damn, he couldn’t even remember a time when he hadn’t, but here, right now with this med student pressed against the door making the most obscene, beautiful sounds he’d ever heard all sense of planning and reason was gone. He’d never been in such an carnal state of mind, and in his lust filled haze tried to reason why. _

_ It was a pointless train of thought. There was a fire under his skin that could only be sated by what was happening right now. By this man. _

_ Michael, for the first time, was acting on instinct alone and it was glorious. He felt free. _

_ “Christ.. Yes..” Michael bucked his hips forward again, grinding against the other, desperately seeking more friction, and when he felt his cock slide against the hardened skin of his new friend he almost lost it on the spot. Keeping close, he aligned their lengths and wrapped his hand around both,  _ and _ the hand of the other man, intending to ride it out with the best connection he could think of. It wasn’t as if he’d come to the party with supplies, though he’d be lying if he wasn’t thinking about sinking his length into the promised heat of the other as their bodies found a rhythm under their joined hands. _

_ “Oh. p-please.. Yes.” _

_ His lips sought and found the breathless, wanting mouth of the other man, and he didn’t waste any time licking his way in, easily dominating with lips, teeth and tongue while their hips ground together, chasing their mutual end. _

_ It didn’t take long, all things considered. The man he had pinned to the door writhed underneath him, meeting Michael’s thrusting with rapid movements of his own, punctuated with filthy sounding moans and mumbled curses that he ground out when his mouth wasn’t being ravaged by Michael. _

_ “Yesyesohgodyes.” _

_ He felt it, felt the hard planes of the med student’s body seize up as the orgasm tore through him, felt and heard the long drawn out moan as the other man spilled his release over into their joined hands. _

_ It was the single most erotic thing Michael had ever experienced, and he flew over the edge soon after, his body shuddering violently against the other mans’ as his hand guided them both through their climax. Kisses became less frantic, and their hips slowed. Breathing became more regulated and heart beats returned to normal… and unfortunately, so did their thoughts. _

_ “Don’t even.. Know your name..” Michael managed to say as his lips traced a lazy path along the med student’s neck to his collarbone. In all honesty, he hadn’t had enough. _

_ “But I know yours...” The reply that came out of the darkness was tired sounding, but laced with humour, and Michael decided right there that he wanted to hear it again. Especially the part where his name was involved. Michael caught his mouth in a fierce, almost possessive kiss that left no doubt that he meant every word he said next. _

_ “That’s so fucking hot,  _ doctor _. Meet me at O’Reilly’s on Saturday after the game. You can tell me then.” Reaching blindly, Michael grabbed the first thing he could find and used it to wipe the mess they’d made between them. Tossing it on the floor, he carefully tucked his mystery man’s spent cock back into his pants before stepping back and taking care of himself. He’d intended to go right back in to enjoy stealing a few more kisses from the med student, but as soon as he moved, the other man shifted to the door and opened it just enough to slip his body through. _

_ “See you on Saturday.. Michael.” _

_ And just like that, he was gone. _

~~~~~

Michael jerked into a fully woken state, eyes flying open in the dim pre-dawn light, and he realised he’d been dreaming again. Just like every other time, he’d woken up with a raging boner that he did his best to ignore because it didn’t feel right. How could it, with the guilt that had sunk into his soul, twisting deeper each and every time he had that dream, or re-lived one of his equally most treasured and disastrous memories?

How could he bare to rub one out when he’d allowed the best thing that had ever happened to him slip away? Sure, it was one night. Not even that. But the way Michael was.. He’d never had another connection like it since.

_ ‘See you on Saturday… Michael.’ _

But Michael hadn’t shown up. At least, not the Michael that he had been, at that party, in the dark with the med student. No, the Michael that had shown up was the one that everyone else saw. The one that had been on display ever since.

Smiling. Professional.  _ Happy _ .

Michael sat on the edge of his bed with his face in his hands, unable to stop the progression of memories now that they had been triggered. The memory of the emails he received, with a photograph of him getting cosy in the corner with another man, and another of him leaving the bedroom after his rendezvous with the med student with his hair suitably sexed up and his kiss-swollen lips painfully obvious for all to see.

What he couldn’t fathom was how they’d gotten such a clear photograph in such dim light. Until he saw the photographs online. The  _ innocent _ photographs of everyone else, taken for the college social media blog by the multimedia students with their infrared equipment.

The confused young brunette also couldn’t understand why they were allowed to breach everyone’s privacy like that in the first place, or why the university would let them get away with it.

Okay, sure. A picture of him leaving a bedroom alone wasn’t really evidence of anything. The one with the med student practically in his lap in the living room was though, and even if it hadn’t bothered Michael, it had bothered  _ someone _ enough to email the pictures to his coach. His protests of how hypocritical the man was fell on deaf ears. Nobody cared if Michael was a man-whore, as long as it was with co-eds. In fact, it was encouraged. 

_ Ordered.  _

They didn’t even bother to veil the threats.

Michael had less than one semester left, and unless he wanted his scholarship cancelled, and his endorsement to the FBI academy revoked, he’d play ball. Literally and figuratively. He had no choice, no way out that he could see that didn’t involve a student debt that he couldn’t repay and a career that failed before he’d even had a chance to get started.

He’d be lying if he said his decision to accept their terms was wholly selfish though. In the forefront of his mind at all times was his med student, and how far  _ he _ still had to go on this campus with the same people who were bribing him into silence now.

Michael was a lot of things, but he wasn’t about to destroy someone else’s reputation  _ and _ their future because he felt some dumb connection like he was the star player in a teenage rom-com.

And so, the following Saturday after the game it wasn’t the Michael that the med student had met that turned up at O’Reilly’s. It was the brazen, overconfident, absolutely  _ wasted _ quarterback with a cheerleader hanging off each arm that breezed into the bar. It was this Michael that had accepted the adoration of the crowd gathered there, and it was this Michael that allowed one of the cheerleaders to feel him up in public for the sake of appearances even though he felt as though he was slowly dying inside. And, it was  _ this _ Michael who had given the guy he’d checked out a time or two in the swimming pool when they were both doing laps a dismissive nod of thanks when he’d approached him at the bar with smiling blue eyes and a --

_ ‘You can drop the act.. Michael.’ _

That voice..

“Fu- fuck.”

Slowly, in Michael’s sleep addled mind the pieces started to come together. One face tried to merge into the other, but the passage of time had dimmed all but the blue eyes of the man with the red glow stick in his hand. And the hurt. He’d never noticed that before, he’d been too busy doing what was expected of him and not what he wanted. That, and he’d made sure he was so drunk before he got there that most of the night was a blur.

_ It couldn’t be.! _ .. Could it?

Was this..  _ Adam  _ the one he’d stood up all those years ago? Across all these miles?  _ In this fucking town? _

“No. That’d be stupid. It can’t be. It’s just someone who looks like someone I barely knew.”

Michael could taste the bitterness of the lie on his own lips though, and cursed under his breath as he rose to his feet to start the day.


	4. Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Days pass, as they do.
> 
> Michael gets in touch with Raphael, thinking to open up but things don't quite go to plan.

##  **Four**

Towards the end of the week, Michael couldn’t take it anymore, the way that stupid blue and grey keepcup just stared at him accusingly from the counter in his kitchen. He’d intended on taking it back but every time he shoved it into his satchel he pulled it right back out again because he didn’t want to face reality.

If that’s what it even was.

Michael had gotten himself so worked up about it, that this... _Adam_ was _his_ med student that he was finding it hard to function. He knew damn well all he had to do was take the cup back and leave his number, or ask Raphael if she just happened to know a tall blonde with sad blue eyes and a chip on his shoulder.

But he couldn’t, so he’d just let the cup sit there and represent everything he’d done wrong. The night before Michael had found himself talking to the stupid thing, apologising yet again to the universe for not being strong enough to take a stand when the chips were down.

So now, there he was on Friday afternoon doing his best to not look at the cup that he’d effectively stolen from another first responder who probably depended on his caffeine hits like they were some kind of lifeline.

God he was _such_ an ass.

With a grumbled curse, Michael made a decision, and within moments he was stalking along the road with his satchel _and_ the cup, and his phone in his hand, his breath steaming in the cool late afternoon air.

[Text] _Hey Raph I know it’s a long shot but do you know a Dr named Adam? I don’t know his last name._

It took her all of five minutes to respond. He must have caught her in some down time.

[Text] _I know of one in the children’s ward. I see him in the ER now and then. There could be others though. It’s a big hospital._

Michael was just thanking whoever was listening that she hadn’t asked why when his phone beeped again.

[Text] _Why do you want to know?_

He groaned, wondering if he could just pass it off as a person of interest in a case, but he knew his sister was smarter than that.

[Text] _I kind of stole his keepcup when he spilled his coffee all over me on Monday and I want to give it back. I’m just going to drop it off at the cafe where it happened._

Michael pushed his way through the doors of the cafe and breathed in the warmer air, automatically inhaling the scent of fresh coffee. The smells coming from the kitchen were absolutely divine, and the rumbling of his stomach was a sharp reminder that it had been days since he had bothered to eat a proper meal.

His phone chimed again.

[Text] _What aren’t you telling me?_

[Text] _Dammit Raph, stop that. Can you meet me? I’ll buy your nosy ass dinner._

He added the name of the place he was at and ordered them coffee while he was waiting, sure it would take her a while to arrive but Michael underestimated his younger sister’s ability to move.

“What did you do, teleport?” His tone was dry as he watched her slip through the door wearing a deep blue vintage coat and a pair of boots that rode so high on her legs they disappeared under the knee length fabric. Not even fifteen minutes had passed.

“No I flew.” Raphael’s answer was delivered with all the fondness that tagged along with siblings who knew how to poke fun at one another without having to worry about giving offence. “You know I save teleporting for special occasions.”

“Gross Raph, I don’t want to hear about your sex life.”

“...and you’re not going to.” She snorted and shrugged out of her coat, throwing it carelessly into the booth as she slid into the seat opposite her elder brother with the hint of a grin tugging at the edges of her lips. It was at that moment their coffee was delivered, and they looked in unison to their waitress and nodded their thanks. “First things first. Did you read Lu’s email this morning?”

“What? No, not yet.” Michael pulled out his phone and opened the app he needed to do exactly that, and a few moments later a smile lit up his face, and he raised his blue-green eyes to meet Raphael’s darker ones. “His tour is winding up. He’ll be home at the end of the month.”

Raph’s answering smile was radiant, albeit relieved and she reached up to tuck her long brown hair behind one ear. Both she and Lucifer had joined the airforce after they’d graduated from high school, though for different reasons. She’d used it to earn her degree, and after her obligatory one tour, she’d left with the rank of captain and a set of scars crisscrossing her back that Michael had seen only once. Lucifer, or Lu, as they affectionately called him had used it to learn self discipline when he’d realised he was heading down a destructive path when their mother died. He’d barely been on US soil since, but whenever he was, they gathered together without question or complaint. Gabriel.. Gabriel was a different story. He’d somehow found himself flung into the limelight during his senior year of college and was now using his quick wit and sarcastic tongue to pave his way in his own show on some cable network. From what Michael had seen of it, it was pretty funny, but then he’d grown up listening to Gabriel’s smart mouth so he wasn’t really surprised his youngest brother was such a success. “Yes, and Gabriel is coming home too. He said he was going to pick him up at the airport and head up this way once Lu had been discharged properly.”

Michael exhaled and wiped a hand down the side of his tired face, feeling content that his twin would be coming home, and for good this time. “Don’t tell me we’re all going to be in the same place for Christmas. Dad’s not going to know what to do with himself.”

“Probably not, but I’m sure we can pull him away from his laptop for it. His new bestseller can wait.”

Their father, Chuck had a publication list as long as Michael’s arm, and spent most of his time with his eyes glued to the screen, typing madly as idea after idea materialised out of his mind and into what had originally been something he started to do while grieving for his late wife.

More than fifteen years later, he was still typing.

The conversation went on, with Michael beating around the bush and Raphael sipping on her coffee waiting for whatever it was that he was working himself up to tell her. Pushing Michael via text was one thing. Making demands of him face to face before he was ready would just send him off into one of his broody moods, and Raphael had learned from experience that it just never worked.

Eventually though, after another coffee and a shared plate of bruschetta, it happened.

“Raph..” Michael felt his throat constrict and his mouth went dry, despite the coffee he’d just taken a sip of. His voice dropped to a barely audible level, and he visibly forced himself to continue. He produced the offending keepcup from his bag and set it on the table between them. “I think it’s...oh god _Raph_ , it’s _him._ ”

Nervous, agitated fingers that had been toying with the edge of his coffee cup froze, and Raphael frowned, confused at the way his tone had changed from nervous tension to utter shock. Looking up, the question died on her lips when she saw that her brother wasn’t looking at her anymore. She turned her head, following his gaze, and her own eyes widened when she saw what, or _who_ he was looking at.

From the angle their booth was at at the back of the cafe, they could both see the street, and there, staring at _her_ through the window with confused eyes was..

“..Adam.” If she’d had to guess...it would have been him. “ _Him_? I don’t.. Michael what are you...”

But Michael wasn’t listening. He’d shot up out of his seat and was heading for the door, and Raphael was talking to the empty space in front of her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up..
> 
> A long awaited conversation, and the healing can begin.


	5. Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dun dun... dunnnn.
> 
> Okay it's the middle of the night and I'm t i r e d.
> 
> ~~~~~
> 
> Michael chases after Adam, thinking it was time to talk. But will Adam hear him out or will things just get more complicated?

Adam wasn’t quite sure what he was looking at, standing there in the evening light. Sure, he was looking through the cafe window, and sure there were people in there, and sure, it was busy and he couldn’t  _ hear _ a word that was being said.

But was that  _ Raphael _ , the surgeon from the ER that he was seeing talking to  _ Michael _ , of all people? Were they really looking at each other with the kind of familiarity he could only dream of having with someone? He wiped a hand across his eyes, hoping to dispel whatever weirdness was making him see things, but no, there she was, laughing at whatever (no doubt) lame thing he’d just said.

It looked  _ cosy _ . 

It looked...almost intimate.

It also looked like none of his business...even if he did know the other doctor was supposedly happily married. Nope, it was none of his business if..

_ Shit _

Right before Adam could avert his eyes and move on, he saw Michael reach into his bag and pull out his damned keepcup. 

_ So.. that’s where it went. _

And then, in seemingly slow motion, Adam saw the hesitation cross Michael’s face, and he watched him fidget in that same agonisingly slow movement and try to do anything but meet Raphael’s eyes.

_ What was this? _

It made the blonde pause for long enough to get caught by first Raphael’s, then Michael’s troubled, yet stern blue-green gaze, and the shock of recognition in his eyes when he registered Adam’s presence was clear. Instantly, Adam’s featured schooled themselves into the most impassive expression he could muster. It was the same expression he gave a patient he had no good news for, or the one he wore when delivering information to a distraught loved one waiting in the hospital emergency room for a sliver of hope.

A mask, and one that Adam had perfected over the years.

He spun ninety degrees on his heel, deciding he really didn’t want to buy coffee  _ right _ then after all, and headed away from the window. His intention was to grab a cup elsewhere. Or at home. Or maybe he’d buy a bottle of wine instead. Whatever. The only thing he  _ wasn’t _ going to do was to wait there and stare at the worst ghost from his past chatting up one of his co-workers, dammit. He’d been to Raphael’s house for summer cookouts, and had even been to see her husband’s band play.

Adam got about fifty metres before his brain registered a voice, calling him. Asking him to stop.

“ _ Adam _ …!”

Damn. Fuck. He’d waited ten years to hear Michael say his name, but he didn’t stop.

“Wait.. Adam..”

No.  _ nonono _ . Ignoring the desperation in Michael’s tone, Adam strode along the street on his long legs, not even breaking stride in his haste to just be  _ anywhere _ but there.

“For heaven’s sake Adam,  _ please. _ ”

The last was delivered as Michael came running into his line of sight and slid to a halt right in front of him barely out of breath. Considering he had practically sprinted to catch up with the tall blonde, Adam would be lying to say he wasn’t a little impressed.

Bastard.

Adam halted mid-step, instantly going into a defensive stance, crossing his arms over his chest and moving to one side of the busy footpath while he let the other man bluster his way through a sentence that made absolutely no sense. Adam didn’t even catch more than two words, and even then he wasn’t sure he’d heard him right.

Silence.

The rest of the world faded, drifting out of focus as he looked Michael in the eye again, hoping his own blue eyes wouldn’t betray the indifference he was projecting.

“So you can read a name on a cup. Good for you.”

Okay, that was petty, and not something Adam would normally stoop to, but the hurt, the humiliation he’d suffered all those years ago because of Michael had flared anew, and he found that he just couldn’t help the sarcastic, rude tone that flew out of his mouth.

Michael winced visibly and recoiled, obviously stung by Adam’s words.

“No, Adam. Well ye-yeah.” Michael threaded a clearly frustrated hand through his dark brown hair and sighed. His shoulders dropped, sagging into a dejected pose that he didn’t bother to correct. This wasn’t going well at all, and he’d barely said a word. “That’s not it. I…” He looked around, past Adam to the street behind him, letting his eyes roam while he uselessly tried to gather his thoughts. There really was no good place to start, and so when Michael stopped wrestling with what to say, his voice was small, barely audible despite the relatively short distance between them. 

“It was ..you..?”

Adam’s nostrils flared, and he opened his mouth to deliver a scathing retort, but paused with the words on the tip of his tongue. If Michael had said  _ anything _ else but what he had just then... Even so, Adam’s mind became a well of confusion as he tried to process the implications of Michael’s words.

_ Does this mean..? What? _

If they were true.

“What was me..? The coffee on Monday? Yeah.”

_ Nice one, Adam. _

“No I mean…” Michael fought a war right then and there. It raged inside him, though he tried to stamp it down. Guilt conflicted with pride, and anxiety clashed swords with years of regret, while self-doubt played both sides like an evil, whispering voice determined to make him say and do the wrong thing  _ again _ . Aeons passed, though Michael knew it couldn’t possibly have been more than a minute or two that he stood there with his mouth opening and closing like the proverbial fish out of water.

“What? What do you mean?” He thought about taking mercy on Michael right then, just watching the conflicting emotions race across the dark haired man’s features was enough to dampen his irritability. Adam hesitated, swallowed the rest of his sarcasm, and just left it at that.

If what he’d just come to suspect was true.. Well.. He needed to hear Michael  _ say _ it.

“The red..” Michael’s hands started to shake from the struggle warring inside him, and he thought seriously about just leaving, getting out of there and never looking back. It would be easier than coming face to face with his biggest regret, going into a state of panic and heightened anxiety and not being able to use his words. But he knew that if he left now, fate might not give him another chance. Shoving his shaking hands deep into his pockets, Michael inhaled slowly and closed his eyes, and when he reopened them, it was to see Adam watching him with sympathetic blue eyes and an otherwise impassive face. It looked..weird, but it gave him the prompt he needed to just get it over with. “...glow stick. The red glow stick.”

There it was.

_ Shit. shit. _

“Yes.”

Michael’s question and Adam’s subsequent abrupt confession hung in the air between them like a thick, heavy cloud. People passed, shuffling by them on their way home, or out for a night on the town but neither man noticed.

They just stared at one another, each hoping the other would say  _ something _ to break the silent, awful tension. Adam’s eyes flew to Michael’s pockets, where he could still see the shaking hands that the other man was doing his best to hide. He knew well what that was.

“Are you okay?” The words left his mouth before he could stop them, though the doctor in him felt compelled to ask. The doctor in him overrode his own anger, and allowed Adam to remain calm in a time when he wanted nothing more than to break down. Or hide. Or both.

Michael pulled one hand out of his pocket, looked at his traitorous hand as if he’d never seen it before and swallowed hard. “Sure..” He wasn’t about to dump that on Adam, not a chance. They were strangers, in a very real sense, and Michael was at least halfway convinced that this conversation was going to end before it had even started.

“Liar..” The blonde huffed, and smiled briefly at the other man, erasing it immediately once he realised what he’d done. 

“Listen..”

“I want to explain.”

They spoke simultaneously. Adam signaled for Michael to continue. Part of him just didn’t want to hear it, and wanted to tell Michael to just leave again. But.. he needed to hear it.

“Fine.” He dropped his arms to his sides and nodded his head, indicating for Michael to go on, but he was unprepared for what came next.

“Not here..” Michael’s heart lurched in his chest when Adam agreed, though he  _ hated _ the way Adam was looking at him right now. It made him think that it didn’t matter what he said, that no matter what, once this conversation was done they would part ways forever.

Michael wasn’t really surprised to realise he already didn’t want that. Not with how he was, and not with Adam being the only one he’d ever truly felt a real connection with, on that deep, intimate level.

Though at least if that happened, Michael would finally have a clear conscience. Sort of. Raising the same hand he’d pulled out of his pocket, Michael pointed back up the street he’d just sprinted down to get to Adam, gesturing for him to head back that way. “...Let me buy you a drink? I..”

For a moment, Adam froze, not knowing which way to go.

Away from Michael and this mess? Or with him, to hear him out. Adam didn’t owe the man a thing, after all, but he could appreciate and even hope... that maybe, just  _ maybe _ it wasn’t what he thought, all those years ago.

_ Yeah right. Wishful thinking. _

Belatedly, Adam realised he’d already fallen into step with Michael, and they were slowly making their way back to where it had all began.

“I already interrupted your, uh..” Oh lord, how was Adam supposed to describe what he  _ thought _ he’d seen through the window of the cafe? “..Date..”

Michael’s eyes widened, and his head whipped around to stare at Adam in confusion. “My  _ what _ ?” He’d been having coffee with Raphael, and hadn’t considered before now that it might have looked like something … different. “No, Adam..” Oh, God. He didn’t mean to, and the timing was downright  _ lousy _ , but Michael couldn’t help it. He threw his head back and started laughing.

_ Could this be any worse? _

“Michael! There you are.” 

_ Apparently it could. _

A female voice came through the crowded street toward them, and as they reached the cafe, both men saw Raphael pushing her way through the doors of the cafe with Michael’s satchel slung over one shoulder. “I’ve gotta go. I sent you a text, but here.” She handed the bag over, giving Adam a quick once over as they all came to an awkward halt. “Hey Adam, how are you?” Cheeky mahogany coloured eyes cut back towards Michael, and Adam watched in silence, (and with a sinking heart) as she punched Michael in the shoulder. Huh. They really  _ did _ know each other well if she was whacking him like he was one of those pop-up things in a carnival game. “Is this idiot really the one who stole your stupid cup?”

_ “Raph.” _ Michael felt his cheeks heat up, and he flicked his own eyes between his sister and Adam, hoping neither of them would actually speak again, ever. “I think we’ve all agreed that it was. Speaking of…” Michael reached into his bag and pulled out the offending cup, passing it to Adam with a wry grin. Adam reached for it, and their fingers connected for a moment, but he pulled them back again as though he’d been burned.

“Uh, can you keep it in there for a bit longer?” Adam covered up the shock he’d felt when Michael’s skin made contact with his by patting himself down, ending his movements with a shrug. “I’ve got nowhere to put it.”

Raphael rolled her eyes, but neither man noticed. They were too busy kind of just.. Staring at each other awkwardly. She cleared her throat, intending on removing herself from the scenario as quickly as possible.

Besides, she had her own date night to get to.

By now, Michael had tucked the cup back into his bag, breaking the weird staring  _ thing _ he and Adam were doing, and he looked down at Raphael, still at a loss for words.

“Affirmative Raphael, yeah it was him.” Adam scrubbed a hand through his blonde hair and turned his attention back to the other doctor, still uncertain about her place in all of  _ this. _ “Though it turns out we already know each other. We’re just going to have a drink and, uh, catch up.. You’re welcome to tag along if you..”

He didn’t get any further before Raphael pulled a face, screwing up her nose and shaking her head at the same time as Michael made a strangled noise from somewhere at his side. “No, thanks but I’m already late. One of you can fill me in with the  _ how _ some other time.” With that, Raphael leaned forward, hugged Michael, gave Adam another smile and turned, slipping away before either of them could comment.

Adam blinked at the empty space on the footpath where she’d just been standing, listening to Michael say goodbye to ..nothing. To say he was confused would be an understatement.

“Yeah, bye Raph..” Michael’s tone was exasperated, and still a little freaked out, but Adam could hear the fondness in his tone. “Sisters...”

_ Wait, what? _

“She’s your  _ sister _ ?”

“Mmm.” Michael nodded, bringing his eyes back to meet Adam’s again. Weirdly, the awkward tension seemed to have dissipated slightly, though he still wasn’t looking forward to the conversation ahead. “Yeah. I’d.. huh.. Asked her to meet me because I thought if she knew you I could..uh..”

If Adam wasn’t supposed to be being angry and sulky right now, he would have admitted to himself in heartbeat that Michael in a flustered mess was  _ cute _ . As it was, he was having trouble maintaining his indifferent facade. “Michael, there’s a bar on the next block. It’s nice. Why don’t we..”

Honestly, one of them would finish a sentence sooner or later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feed back is always appreciated!
> 
> Thank you for reading my lil Midam fic.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's time.. Confession time for Michael. But will Adam accept what he has to say, or will he walk away?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry it's taken me so long oh my gosh.!
> 
> This chapter is super long compared to the others, but man, I really struggled to keep the muses in line for this one. They really just wanted to skip to the happy.. So we have a compromise.. and I wanted to get all of 'THE TALK' out in one chapter.
> 
> So here we go!

~~~~~

 

They walked in silence for a while, both men adjusting to the others’ presence, and the surprising turn on of events that neither had anticipated, even if both had hoped for it at one point or another. Michael, for lack of anything else to do with them, had shoved his fidgeting hands back into his pockets, while Adam let his hang loosely by his sides.

Adam cast sideways glances at Michael now and then as they walked along the street, both dreading and anticipating the conversation ahead. In truth, he had no idea what Michael was going to say, but he _was_ sure about one thing, and one thing only:

Whatever it was, it had better be good.

As they swung through the doors of the bar Adam had led them to, he stopped to let his light blue eyes adjust to the dimmer illumination and scan the interior for a suitable table where they could talk without interruption. For this early on a Friday, the place was well occupied, and from where the young doctor was standing, he could see little available that would suit their needs.

“How about over there?”

Michael’s baritone voice penetrated his thoughts, and Adam followed where his hand pointed, spotting a two seater lounge tucked against the wall at the back with a low table sitting beside it. It wasn’t perfect, and they’d be sitting pretty close together, but it was reasonably private, and it would do.

“Sure. Go grab it. What..what are you drinking?”

Adam’s voice came back hesitant. It was just a drink, but suddenly it seemed like so much more. So many _‘what if’s’_ ran through his mind he couldn’t focus on the simple task at hand.

_It’s just a drink. He’s going to explain, and then you can leave._

_Oh, but what if he didn’t?_

Adam’s mouth went dry as a million different scenarios ran through his mind at top speed, and he stared at Michael for a long moment before he realised the other man had spoken.

“....Pardon? Sorry I..”

Michael had stepped closer, hovering near Adam’s shoulder with a look of intense concentration (and worry) on his face as he repeated what he’d said.

“I said, that depends on.. Ugh, why don’t we just take a seat first?” The brunette swallowed hard, and Adam realised that Michael was probably faring no better than he was, and so he just nodded, letting himself be guided by a seemingly steady hand to the lounge Michael had spotted a few minutes earlier.

“It might get a bit noisy in here later.”

For lack of anything else to say in that moment, Adam waved a hand at the rest of the bar as he sat, looking around for Michael when he realised he wasn’t where he thought he would be. It didn’t take him long to spot the dark haired man, crossing back to where he was from the bar itself with a menu in one hand.

“Okay.. I was saying while we were over there, that I’d prefer not to get this out in one sentence, but I understand if you don’t want to hang around, once..here.” Michael passed the menu to Adam as he sat down next to him, folding his long legs into the lounge and pushing his back into the corner so that he was facing the younger man.

Adam absolutely did _not_ appreciate the way Michael’s knee brushed against his thigh, or the way his body took note of the other man’s presence. He also didn’t appreciate the apparently easy smile Michael sent his way, or the way he rose one eyebrow, indicating that Adam should read the menu in his hand.

His stomach flipped. Dammit.

Adam smiled without meaning to, wondering when Michael had taken charge of the situation, but also knowing that even if he had, he was still free to leave whenever he wanted, and would do so, if at any time he felt the need to.

With that decision made, the blonde let his eyes fall to the menu, and without even looking past the first page, he handed it back to Michael, meeting his ocean coloured eyes without hesitation.

“Great minds think alike. I prefer red. A straight cabernet sauvignon or a blend, but I’m open to suggestions.”

“I knew there was a reason I liked you.” Michael bantered lightheartedly, tossed the menu onto the table and stood up again in one fluid motion. Adam could only watch as he literally stalked back to the bar and, after a short, yet intense looking conversation with the bartender, was folding himself back in his spot next to Adam with a bottle in one hand and two glasses in the other. “Now, I know you offered, but..” Michael’s voice faltered as he poured them both a generous glass and passed one to Adam. He remained sitting forward, toying with the bottle in both hands as though the confidence that he had been practically oozing a few minutes ago had evaporated, leaving behind a mess of a man that was at least as nervous as Adam was.

It really was all a front, Adam realised as he caught the hint of Michael’s hands shaking again, and his own eyebrows rose questioningly. He took a tentative sip of the wine in his hand, and had to stop the groan of appreciation that threatened to leave his mouth. Damn, Michael had chosen well. Not that Adam was mentally cataloging anything about him. That was definitely _not_ happening.

“Michael..”

“No, let me get this out.” Michael didn’t wait for Adam’s permission, or even look at him to see the nod of assent that he was given. He didn’t let his mind dwell on how much he liked hearing his name coming from Adam’s delectable mouth. He _couldn’t_. “.. as I was saying, this is my mess, it’s my fault, so it’s my shout.”

“Okay..” Adam’s reply was simple but firm, and it, and Michael’s own words reminded both of them sharply of the real reason why they were there. This wasn’t a date, though it was starting to feel like one, and Adam had to tell himself every few seconds or so that he was there to get answers and go home. To close the door on this.. apparition from his past, and move on.

Michael slumped back in his seat at his end of the sofa with troubled eyes that roamed over Adam’s face, searching for an absolution that Adam couldn’t yet give, and maybe never would. It was time. As much as he wanted to keep putting it off, and to just sit and get to know Adam like he should have years ago, Michael knew he couldn’t. He _had_ to explain himself, and in that explanation, open himself, and Adam up to more pain and rejection. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to -..”

“Yeah, I do.” The grimace Michael gave him made Adam sigh, and he adjusted himself in the seat, curling one leg up and twisting to face the dark haired man, giving him his full attention. “I’m sorry. I’ve got a lot of..anger I guess, about this and I’m probably going to speak before I think..”

“No, no. Don’t. Don’t make excuses for what I did. You have the right, and I’m sorry. And shit, Adam, sorry doesn’t even _begin_ to cover it.” Michael picked his glass up, sipping from it carefully, though he hummed appreciatively when the flavour of the ruby coloured wine hit his taste buds. “Wow..”

Adam gave his approval begrudgingly as he sampled from his own glass yet again. “You did well there, I have to say.”

Michael’s answering grin was quick, as though he appreciated the honesty, even though he knew Adam was under no obligation to be nice to him. With his heart hammering in his chest, Michael’s grip on his glass tightened, and he ran his other nervous, jittery hand down his chino clad thigh. “I guess I.. damn. So many years wanting to get this out and I don’t know where to start.”

“Did you regret it?”

Adam didn’t know where those words came from. Actually, he did, but he surprised himself with how quickly they came out, upfront, giving Michael no room to weave around them. Later, he’d just put it down to his subconscious mind wanting to know one of the most important things right from the start. Michael’s answer would determine how the rest of the conversation went, after all.

“Nnn..o. Never.”

It was curt and to the point, or would have been, if Michael wasn’t now choking on the mouthful of wine he’d just sipped to bolster his nerves. Holding up a hand to stop Adam from coming closer to whack him on the back, Michael got himself under control and exhaled, long and slow.

“You don’t understand.” And there he was, back to fidgeting with his glass, turning it around in his hands just to give himself something else to focus on besides the thundering, panicked beat of his own heart.

_Just go. Go. It won’t make a difference. He’s not listening anyway._

“I’m never, ever attracted to anyone.”

It was, perhaps, one of Michael’s biggest secrets, and one he hid well, though really, it was nobody’s business but his own. He rarely even spoke about it with his family, but admitting it to Adam seemed to be the right thing to do, and he really, _really_ hoped the young blonde would understand what he meant.

“That’s not what your reputation said.”

Adam chose those words carefully, though there really wasn’t any other way to describe what Michael _appeared_ to be while he was at university. He was trying to read between the lines of what Michael was saying, but the words were coming out jumbled and disjointed, and with the highly strung emotions flying between the two of them, he was going to have to be more careful.

“I know, and that was very deliberate, and also very false. Adam I’m..”

Adam watched as Michael struggled to speak, and without thought, went out of his asshole defense mode and back into his normal state, or as close to it as he could manage. If by changing his own vibe he could help Michael get through whatever he was about to say, he would swallow his pride and do it.

Just this once. He’d promised to hear him out, after all.

“Go on, it’s okay. I’m listening.”

_He’s listening. He’s really listening._

“Demi, Grey. Pan. There are a lot of words and even more labels, and I _don’t like_ any of them but those are the best ways to describe how I am. I rarely feel an.. Do you know what I mean?”

The look in Michael’s eyes, tormented and pleading cut Adam right to the bone, and if he hadn’t already decided to radiate a sense of calm he wasn’t really feeling, this would have done it for him. “Of course I do.. I’m somewhere in there myself. Though the umbrella is pretty big. You’ve got to admit that. But I don’t understand what that has to do with -..”

“I was there on a sporting scholarship. The coach was one of those old school hypocritical jerks who thought footballers weren’t people unless they were banging anything that moved, were big manly men who dated cheerleaders and... and I learned early on that I had to play my role.” With each word that fell from his lips, Michael felt himself calming down, and his heartbeat decreased to a normal level. He realised that despite the topic of conversation, and the insane amount of guilt that was wracking him, he was comfortable in Adam’s presence, and was encouraged enough by the other man’s apparent acceptance of his words to continue. “That didn’t mean I did more than flirt, though in my first year I did try.. And what a fucking disaster that was, let me tell you.”

Michael went on, speaking in low tones that wouldn’t be heard by anyone other than Adam, who was indeed listening as the words came out of the dark haired man in a jumbled rush. In fact, he was so caught up in what Michael was saying that when he raised his glass to sip from it, he realised it was empty. A quick glance at the clock on the wall near the bar told him almost an hour had passed, and Michael had been talking the whole time, telling him about his early years and what it was like realising he was _different_.

...And while this was all well and good, it didn’t have anything to do with Adam. Not that he could see, anyway. Yet. But he let Michael talk regardless, letting his mind compare _this_ Michael to the one he’d approached all those years ago. There were similarities there. The same ones that had given Adam the attraction in the first place, those _were_ there, but there were also differences. He was more guarded, for starters, even though he was speaking freely in this moment.

Sitting up a little straighter, Adam reached for the wine bottle and without interrupting Michael’s monologue, he refilled their glasses...and completely ignored the fact that at some point in the last hour, their legs had connected, and were slotted comfortably against each other from the knee down.

It was a small lounge, and that was all there was to it.

Eventually, Michael’s voice faltered, and it was only then that Adam decided to speak more than just the small words of encouragement he’d been uttering for the last little while.

“I used to see you, you know, in the pool or on the track. The football games never really interested me, but I got dragged to a few.. And you were always there. That night at the party..” Adam had already sunk back into the cushions, but he turned his head back to look at Michael now, instead of the blank stare he’d been giving the bar while he collected his thoughts. “...I saw the red glow stick around your wrist and well.. I just wanted to know _why_ someone like _you_ was there wearing the red when the rainbow of co-ed options was more your scene. Then.. after what we _did_ , after only what? An hour of conversation?..” Adam shrugged his shoulders as best he could in the position he was sitting in. The fact that roughly the same amount of time had passed now didn’t escape him, and it was with no small amount of effort that he forced his mind back to the sentence he was in the middle of. “...what you just told me about yourself just doesn’t.. fit, and I still can’t see what it has to do with what happened ..after.”

From the pained look on Adam’s face, Michael could see the memory of that rejection still hurt, and he moved quickly to disabuse Adam of the notion that he’d done it by choice. Or at least, the only choice he thought he had at the time.

“I’ve never felt that way about anyone before, or since.”

“Wait, what?” The look Adam gave Michael was a baffled one, clearly he wasn’t paying as much attention as he should have been, to have missed that cue.

“Why do you think I’ve been telling you all of this, Adam?” Michael blinked in genuine confusion, though he knew that he hadn’t gotten to the _why_ of it yet. “I’d seen you around too… and it’s partly because of that night, _and you_ , that led me to what happened next.”

_Oh boy here it comes._

Adam listened in horrified fascination as Michael continued, telling him first about how disappointed he was that Adam had left, following on with how excited he was at the same time to see him again, hoping that when they next met, the connection would be the same. That the attraction he felt was something so _alien_ to Michael that it was all he could think about. Until he’d seen the pictures and read the emails.

“..what pictures?” Adam hadn’t meant to interrupt, but this was new. He remembered the weeks following the party and the bar quite clearly, partly because Michael was basically nowhere to be seen, but mostly because of the ridiculous amount of time he’d spent moping about what had been, and still was, one of the most intense sexual experiences he’d ever had.

Emitting another heavy sigh, Michael pulled out his phone, fiddled with it for a few seconds while he retrieved the evidence from his cloud drive. The emails, the photographs, the notes and things from the meetings he’d been to. The threats from the university itself and the coach. It was all still there, and he handed the phone to Adam without objection, letting him see for himself the shitstorm that had been created by a pair of undergrads with equipment they should have never had access to. Michael hadn’t actually looked at the folder since he’d created it years ago when it had all happened, and therefore hadn’t made the connection with the photographs from the past and Adam when they’d met earlier in the week.

Adam flicked through Michael’s phone slowly, his eyes darting across the screen as he read everything. All of it. The colour drained from his face when he saw indistinct pictures of _himself_ all but sitting in Michael’s lap, then another of him with a satisfied grin and sexed up hair, leaving the room they’d hidden themselves away in with Michael following him soon after.. looking like an equally disheveled, but content mess. There was even one of them going _in_ there. Then another, of Michael on the track, and of Adam in the pool, matching up their faces with hateful, threatening captions attached. The email traffic between Michael and the coach. Michael and the dean. Michael and the student representative office. It was all the same. It was all Michael, pleading with them to ignore it, then getting firmer, and finally, with him agreeing to everything they wanted him to do, as long as the _‘the other student’_ was kept out of it. In correspondence after correspondence, it was the only condition Michael never backed down from.

“Holy..fucking..”

_Shit_

The phone dropped into Adam’s lap, and he rose equally bewildered and distressed eyes to meet those of the man sitting next to him. “This is..” Adam shook his head, inhaled and just stared at Michael, just trying to let his brain comprehend everything that he’d just read, and _everything_ that he hadn’t. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“I did.” It was Michael’s turn to shrug now, and he did so, rolling his broad shoulders slightly as though brushing off Adam’s protest. “You had longer to go there than I did. I could have weathered it for another few weeks, but you.. You were going to be attached to that campus for a lot longer.”

“You should have told me, Michael. I would have understood.” Adam’s head fell backwards, and he raised one hand to pinch the bridge of his nose, still trying to get past the fact that Michael had protected him, taking the fall for their brief entanglement all on his own without thought for his own reputation in the student community. “I could have helped. I transferred away from that campus you know. At the end of that semester.” His voice faltered, the pain and humiliation he’d felt that had led him to leave, seeking a new start somewhere else rose up in his mind. “You were gone by then, but I just couldn’t..” His hand dropped, and the look on his face was troubled, torn. “...I couldn’t stay after what happened in the bar. The way you looked at me, _so fucking dismissive_ , like I was something you stepped in and couldn’t scrape off your shoe was..” To avoid looking into Michael’s eyes any longer, Adam focused on his wine glass instead, though he barely registered its existence. “It’s safe to say nobody has _ever_ looked at me like that since.” _This_ was probably where a lot of Adam’s anger came from, though with the revelation that Michael had had a reason for doing what he did.. It didn’t feel like it was something worth hanging onto.

Though now, Adam didn’t know how to feel about it.

“You have no idea how wasted I was that night Adam. How fucking off my face I was, just so that I could get through what I had to do. To you.” Michael had covered the lower part of his face with his palm, and was staring at a spot on the wall beside Adam’s head, wanting nothing more than for this part to be over. For whatever end that was coming to just.. Be done with. He certainly didn’t think he’d be having _this_ conversation today when he’d left his apartment earlier that afternoon. “Nothing that I ever say will make up for what I did.”

“You already apologised.” Adam sighed, turning the glass in his hand around in circles, imitating Michael’s actions from earlier. “Let’s just..leave it at that, okay?”

“Uh, sure, okay.” Michael stood up, unfolding himself from the lounge again, and Adam had to quickly avert his gaze to avoid getting an eyeful of the most finely sculpted backside he’d ever seen. “Can you give me a minute?” Michael nodded to the rest rooms and wandered off, partly to give himself (and Adam) some breathing space to digest everything that had just been aired, and partly because half a bottle of wine and two lattes was catching up with him. He was gone for perhaps four minutes at the most, but it was enough, and he strode back to the lounge with a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

It hadn’t gone perfectly, but it was done, and now maybe he could.. Michael stopped dead in his tracks about two metres away from where he’d been sitting less than five minutes before, staring at the lounge in dismay as the smile disappeared from his face.

The lounge was empty, and Adam was gone.

He moved closer, slumping back down into the soft cushions with a heavy heart, covering his face with both hands as he processed _this_ , and what it meant. _He was gone_. Michael wasn’t stupid, he should have seen it coming, what with the less than -

“So you’re taking up the whole seat now? Am I supposed to sit in your lap?”

The sound of Adam’s voice, laced with humour, cut through his internal monologue, and Michael jumped, sliding sideways before he looked up, hoping it would give him enough time to compose himself again.

_Gah, why am I like this?_

“I..what? I mean..”

_Sure. Yes. Sit there. Sit, and stay. Please, stay._

Michael cleared his throat. “Sorry, I got… caught up in my mind for a minute there. Please, sit.” His hand slapped down on the seat Adam had vacated before, and he rose a curious eyebrow when he realised Adam had a new, full bottle of wine in his hand. “You’re staying..”

Adam nodded but he didn’t speak, though he looked like he was about to. Or he was mulling something over in his mind, and didn’t know how to say it. Michael just watched him, remaining silent until whatever internal war he was fighting was over.

For his part, Adam had been turning an idea over in his mind since he’d seen the files Michael had shown him, only now that it was time for it to play out, he had cold feet and was now regretting his brash decision to buy another bottle of wine. Pouring two glasses, he set the bottle down, but made no move to pick them up, pass one to Michael or take one for himself.

_Dammit just do it._

“....so, I figured we had one bottle for the old, why not have one for the new?” The words fell out in a rush, and Adam gave the bottle a tap with his index finger. He really had enjoyed the red, and didn’t think twice about ordering another bottle. Not really, until.. Adam looked over at Michael, sitting there with a bemused expression on his stupid handsome face and rolled his eyes. “But did you have to pick the most expensive one on the menu? Jesus Christ, I’ve never been so happy to be earning decent money.”

The look on Michael’s face altered into something more intense, and if Adam hadn’t been watching him he would have missed the way the other man’s now smouldering eyes flicked over him. “Hey, I like what I like okay?”

_Oh boy._

Adam very barely resisted the urge to hit him. Or kiss those wine stained lips. Or both.

_Oh boy._

Instead, he stuck out his right hand, offering it to Michael to take. “Hi, my name is Adam Milligan, I’m a doctor at uh, St Michael’s, I’m thirty, single, a Libra, I have two douchey half brothers that are older than me and I like red wine. Oh, and I just bought us dinner to go with this red wine of new beginnings.”

It took Michael all of two seconds to catch onto Adam’s line of thought, and it was with that same easy smile he’d given him earlier that he reached out and took Adam’s warm hand in his slightly larger one. “ _St Michael’s_ eh? It’s nice to meet you _Adam_. My name is Michael Shurley. I’m also a Libra, I’m thirty-two, an arson inspector with the FBI, I have a sister and two brothers, love red wine and... how did you guess? I’m starving.”

If it hadn’t been for the arrival of the mezze plate Adam had ordered, he doubted he would have taken his hand back in a hurry, but unfortunately he needed it to make room on the small table for the platter that had just been delivered.

“So you don’t mind? I just thought..” Adam eyed the food and the wine, knowing precisely what it looked like, sitting there on the table.

Michael shook his head, and to prove his point, reached over to pick up a piece of warmed pita bread off the platter. “Mind? Adam, I thought you’d _left_. This is..” His head shook again, and he sent a silent prayer of thanks to whatever was out there that he’d had the chance to explain.. And that Adam was still there. “..this is.. You.. dammit where are my words?”

“Probably the same place mine are.” Passing Michael a glass, Adam helped himself to a rice stuffed vine leaf and sat back, not bothering to move away or shift when his thigh connected with Michael’s again. “I’m not saying.. Anything is gone, or.. Whatever, but of all the reasons you could have had. Shit. What kind of asshole would I be if I .. we..”

“Yeah..” Michael deflated a little, but not as much as he might have. He raised his glass to the younger man, tapping the rim of his to the one Adam held in his left hand. “Thank you, Adam. for listening. I.. so you said you have two half brothers?”

And so it went, a little awkward at first, each asking the other questions as they shared the basic information about themselves that most people would have already known about the other before having such a complicated history. It was nice, and it was comfortable, and as the next bottle made its way into their glasses, and the food into their stomachs, Adam and Michael slipped into an easy conversation that held more smiles than it did awkward pauses.

Adam was surprised at himself, but he wasn’t too proud to forgive and forget.

Michael too, was surprised at Adam, he’d gotten himself into such a state over it that now that the moment had passed, he was having trouble believing that the man was still there. And that he was sitting so close.

Almost as close as…

_Don’t go there._

He was also surprised to realise that he did want to go there.

“Earth to Michael.” Adam waved a hand in front of the dark haired mans face. “Where did you go?”

“Huh, oh. Nowhere. It’s just been a day and..”

The blonde nodded his agreement, and pointed at the bar. “They called last drinks.”

“Already? But we just got..” Michael’s eyes flew to the clock on the wall and he blinked several times in disbelief when he registered how late it was. “We’ve been here for six hours?”

Adam chuckled, and set his empty glass on the table. He’d pulled a ten hour shift at the hospital, and then run into Michael and Raphael straight after, and he was tired before he got there. But not so tired that he’d wanted to leave. “We sure have. Time flies when you’re having fun..”

It was Michael’s turn to nod, and he followed Adam’s lead by resting his glass next to the other empty one and hauling himself to his feet. He stepped sideways to allow Adam room to stand, but miscalculated, tripped on his own foot, fell backwards and ended up with Adam standing way too close for comfort.

Michael could feel Adam’s warm breath on his neck behind him and steady hands on his waist stopping him from falling further.

“Falling for me again. That’s twice this week, _Michael._ ”

Flustered beyond belief, he turned his head to speak, but Adam let go and slipped away before the words could leave his mouth. He ran a hand through his dark hair and followed him wordlessly out of the bar and onto the street, where the cold night assaulted their senses almost immediately, heightening the effect of the alcohol they’d consumed.

“Shit, it got cold.”

“It is nearly 2am Michael. That’s fairly normal for this time of year here.” Adam’s tipsy chuckle cut through Michael’s complaint, but he too, was rubbing at his arms and stamping his feet. “But I’m seriously way too underdressed to be outside for too long.”

“Wanna split a cab? My apartment is on the east side over near the lake. Walking distance but not right now.” Michael stuck out an arm to hail a passing taxi, waiting for Adam to reply.

“I’m…” Adam spun in a circle until he was facing in the general direction of his home. He squinted down the street. “...This way.” He pointed, and took a step forward, but Michael’s hand on his arm stopped him. Blinking owlishly at him, Adam obediently halted when the pressure of Michael’s hand increased.

“Okay Adam. That’s the other way. Sort of. But get in the cab and we’ll get you home first.” Michael had had the same amount of alcohol as Adam, and he sure was feeling it, but there was no way he was letting Adam get home on his own two feet.

Anything could happen.

“It’s okay, I’m just.. Wow, I feel like a big _thing_ has happened, and I feel _light_.”

_Me too, Adam. Me too._

“It’s probably just the alcohol.” Michael muttered as he tried to shove Adam into the back seat of the taxi, grinning a little when Adam just kind of fell in sideways.Though he did shuffle himself over so that Michael could slide in after him.

“Remind me to drink about three litres of water before I fall asleep.”

Adam gave the driver his address and hummed to himself as the car moved away from the curb. It wasn’t far, and within five minutes they had pulled up outside. As Adam climbed out of his side of the cab, he was surprised to see Michael get out the other side, and one of his eyebrows rose as he rounded the back of the car to the footpath.

“He’s waiting for me. The driver.”

“Oh..”

_Awkward._

Adam suddenly didn’t know where to put himself, so he just stared at Michael for a few seconds before nodding at the building to his right.

“It’s just here. You don’t have to wait or anything. I’m a big boy.”

Michael absolutely did _not_ appreciate the erotic memory that flashed through his mind right then, and he cleared his throat, giving Adam a glare that would have wilted flowers on a hot day.

Adam swallowed, exhaled and headed to the front door, climbing the short staircase one step at a time as he fumbled in his pocket for his keys. He didn’t need to turn around to know that Michael was only one step behind him, hovering almost protectively at his back.

_Dammit why is that such a turn on?_

Opening the door, he slipped inside and hung his keys on the rack next to the light switch, which he flicked on so that neither of them tripped. Again.

Not that he expected Michael to stay. Or wanted him to.

_Yeah, right._

“Don’t forget the water.” Michael’s eyes were curious, searching the area he could see for anything that would tell him a little more about the man in front of him. There wasn’t a lot, but then they were only standing in the foyer. He shifted from one foot to the other, knowing he should leave.. But for the first time since he could remember, wanting to stay. “I should.. The cab is..”

Adam had turned to face him in the dim light of his entryway, his body screaming one thing, but his mind another. And his heart, something else entirely. “Yeah.. probably.” His eyes darted from Michael’s, down to his lips and back up again so fast Michael nearly missed it.

They just stared stupidly at each other, neither one of them wanting to break the silence, or the mood. Or the tension, though it was entirely different to the kind they had started the night with.

_What if tomorrow everything changes?_

_What if I never see him again?_

_What if..?_

_What if..?_

It was Michael that moved first. He stepped forward and raised his hands, cupping either side of Adam’s neck as he hauled him in for a feverish kiss. His lips crashed against Adam’s and he tasted the bold flavours of the wine they had shared as his tongue demanded entry into the other man’s mouth. He felt rather than heard Adam groan into him, and pressed his torso against Adam’s when the blond’s hands gripped onto his waist.

But just as suddenly as it began, Michael pulled away. “ _Adam.._ ” His voice was hoarse, and laced with desire, and his body was screaming for more. Michael wanted nothing more than to just… claim the man in front of him, but now really wasn’t the time.

“I know..”

“I don’t want to screw this up..and we’re both..”

“You’re right, I know. It’s too.. _stay_.”

Michael’s mouth covered his again, and Adam let himself get pushed against the wall, making sure he hauled Michael after him with eager hands.

“I really can’t stay.” Michael complained against Adam’s lips when he pulled away yet again, sliding one hand around to run his thumb across Adam's bottom lip. He’d been waiting _forever_ to taste the blonde again, and now that he had..well, it was safe to say he was fast becoming addicted. Pressing his face into Adam’s shoulder, Michael inhaled slow and deep, and his struggle to hold back became more evident when he felt Adam’s hips roll forward into his.

Adam grinned, though Michael couldn’t see it.

_Don’t say it._

_Don’t say it._

“But baby it’s cold outside.”

Michael groaned again, but this time he headbutted Adam’s shoulder in the process. “Did you just..?”

“...Maybe.”

“Are you always like this?”

“This is nothing.”

_Cheeky little shit. I like it._

“You did well there, I have to say.” Michael threw Adam’s words from earlier back at him, grinding his hips into Adam as payback. He instantly regretted it when he felt Adam’s erection press against his own. If he didn’t leave now, he wouldn’t.

And if he stayed, he’d regret it… but not because he didn’t want to. No, Michael just didn’t want to rush into anything, and a drunk roll in the hay was never on his agenda. Not with anyone, least of all _Adam,_ the one he’d been pining for all these years, praying for just one chance to make it right.

“You’d better go or I’m not going to let you.” Adam reluctantly dropped his hands from Michael’s waist, allowing the taller man to step away, though he would have preferred it if he’d stay, even if it was just for sleeping. Especially if it was, given the information Michael had shared about himself earlier. But if he was going to be honest with himself, he knew it was better this way.

For now.

“Text me when you get home.”

The sigh that left Michael was genuine, and he nodded as he moved to the door and the waiting cab at the bottom of the stairs.

“Absolutely. Can I see you again?”

Michael’s tone was light, though Adam knew now that there was a real fear behind the question. He smiled and shrugged at Michael as he slid into the cab, unable to stop the sass in his response. “I’ll check my schedule.”

Michael wound down the window to respond, but his answer was lost in the night air as the taxi sped away from the curb. Adam closed his front door, made his way to the kitchen for a tall glass of water and pulled his phone out of his pocket. Earlier, when he’d been scrolling through Michael’s phone he’d sent himself a text so that he had Michael’s number, and he realised right now that Michael didn’t have his.

Or so he thought.

[text] _I’m off Sunday but I’m on nights all next week._

It took Michael less than a minute to respond.

[text] _you really are something. I thought I didn’t have your number, but here we are. Lunch on Sunday?_

[text] _it’s a date._

[text] _yeah, i think it is._

Sipping on his water, Adam wandered into his room, kicked his shoes off, wriggled out of his jeans and fell face first onto his bed. He heaved himself over to his side, rolling as he pulled the comforter over his legs and within minutes, was fast asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not done yet.! But forgive me if it takes a bit for the next one too, since it's so close to Christmas and all. (And I want to do a couple of fun little one shot Christmas fics for our midam babies)


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